Butterfly

by Jo Brenner

“What are you doing?” I asked him, trying to pull away. He gripped my hand tighter. “Keeping it so you don’t fly away. Don’t tell me you don’t like holding hands.” “Not with you.” “Liar.”

“Everything I do, I do for you. For us,” I continued. “Do you hear me?” “Yes, but no more lies, Mason.” I delivered another slap to her clit. “Who?” “Daddy,” she cried, like it was a relief to say again. “Please, Daddy.”